


clear blue autumn days

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 18:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12587988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: Dan goes for a walk. (Phil comes, too.)





	clear blue autumn days

"I'm going for a walk," Dan says. 

It's half one and they've wound down past dinner three hours ago, but Dan's been pacing for longer than that, unable to concentrate on anything. He needs something to burn this achey kind of energy out from under his skin if he's got any hope of sleeping tonight. 

Phil's in his pajamas. He looks up from his cozy corner perch on the sofa, blinking a kind of concern he doesn't speak. 

"Okay," Phil finally says. There's more question there. 

Dan stands at the top of the staircase. "Come with me?"

"Oh." Phil's eyes brighten. "Yeah, okay." 

*

It's colder out than Dan expected. 

He's only wearing sweatpants, and a jacket over his jumper. Phil's got more reasonable pants on, but only a t-shirt And a thinner sort of jacket. 

Between the two of them, they make one decently cozy creature. 

(If only, Dan thinks, it worked that way.) 

*

"Thanks for coming out with me," Dan says. They're a few blocks from the flat, taking their time with no real destination in mind. 

There aren't a lot of people out. 

"Of course," Phil says, voice soft. 

Dan bumps their shoulders together, and doesn't move away. 

* 

"Was it a bad day?" Phil asks, voice breaking the hum of background noise. The city doesn't really sleep, not completely, but it gets drowsy around this hour. 

"If you have to ask," Dan says, "You know it wasn't really." 

"Yeah, but." Phil looks to the side. "You went a bit out of sorts this evening." 

"Just a lot," Dan says. "A lot today." 

Morning meetings. Lunch. Afternoon meetings. Drinks, also while meeting, also while that same vibration built up traction under his skin. 

"You could have gone home early," Phil says. "You always can, you know." 

"Yeah," Dan says. 

It's an offer Phil always makes, and there've been times - so many times, over the years - when Dan took him up on it. Long lonely bus rides home staring into the fog of the city and wondering at how perfectly the world outside matched the one inside his head. 

But he didn't leave early, today. Today he sat through all the meetings, he smiled when he was supposed to smile and laughed when he was supposed to laugh. He made suggestions and he got involved and he knew everyone's names and he felt alive, in the moment, because he was. 

He really was. 

"I was okay, though," Dan says. It's been a while since his last words, but Phil's been waiting patiently. "I was good." 

"You were," Phil says, voice full of warmth. 

* 

They pass by a bar, a couple spilling out all sloppy kisses and roving hands. 

Dan watches Phil watch them. He bites back cliches, like asking if they were ever that young; the truth is that they were, for a time. He remembers frantic handjobs in someone else's bathroom and parties that ended with them stealing space to curl up together, remembers a few stray Manchester club nights where complete strangers probably saw more than they ever truly wanted to. 

But they're not that young now, and they won't be ever again. 

"Do you think they even know each other? I don't think they do. Maybe they met because they ordered the same drink only she wanted sugar on the rim and he wanted salt, and they took each other's." Phil says, and Dan takes a moment to appreciate how even when their minds run on parallel tracks, Phil manages to end up in a destination completely unpredictable. 

Dan leans in and presses a swift kiss to Phil's cheek. 

* 

They turn and make their way back home without acknowledging they're doing so. 

It's almost two in the morning. Phil's yawned three times in four minutes, and his nose is red. 

Dan no longer feels the cold. He feels warm, heart pumping solidly. The ground feels real underneath his feet. 

"I can make us a hot chocolate when we get in," Phil says. 

Dan wonders how much of a routine this feels like to Phil, and he thinks (with the kind of clarity that he only feels like he's had in the past year) about how many nights Phil sat inside waiting until Dan got back from a walk, how many times he'd come back in feeling no better than when he'd left and Phil would place a warm mug in front of him. 

He wants to cry - for himself, back then, and for Phil, too. 

"No," Dan says. "We can just go to bed. I'm tired now." 

"Oh," Phil says, and looks at Dan. The lines against his eyes crease as he smiles. "Yeah? Good." 

*

The time on Dan's phone reads thirteen minutes past two. 

They hang their jackets up side by side. Phil shivers at the gust of cold air they've brought in with them.

Dan catches Phil by the hem of his shirt, balls the material into his fists to keep Phil there. He leans in and touches their foreheads together, then smiles and press a kiss to Phil's bottom lip. He feels Phil's hand reach up, and cold fingers against his cheek. 

"Thanks," Dan whispers, and what Dan means is _I love you_ but those words take a lot of shapes between them. 

"I always like a good walk," Phil says, and that just feels an awful lot like _I love you, too._


End file.
